


The Sweetest Taboo

by Gigi_Sinclair



Category: Perfect Strangers
Genre: Cousin Incest, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi_Sinclair/pseuds/Gigi_Sinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Larry's heard rumours about his relationship with Balki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Taboo

_You've got the biggest heart/Sometimes I think you're just too good for me._  
-Sade, "The Sweetest Taboo", 1986

At first, Larry didn't suspect anyone was laughing at him. He noticed people at the Chronicle talking and casting occasional glances his way, but only a truly paranoid man would assume they were making fun of him. The talking and the glances got more significant whenever Balki was being particularly outlandish. Larry couldn't blame them. Balki always drew attention to himself and usually to Larry as well, greeting him like they hadn't seen each other in years every time he left the office and came back again. Once, after a particularly effusive meeting that left half of Larry's morning coffee splashed onto his shirtfront, Larry went into the mens' room. As he opened the door, he heard Phil Wexler say something about "Appleton's mail-order bride." The other man with him laughed. He stopped as Larry entered the room, but Wexler sniggered once more before tossing his paper towel in the trash and leaving.

If that had been the only incident, Larry would have ignored it. Even Gorpley knew Wexler was a loudmouth creep. But when Larry overheard the mail-order bride crack again a few days afterward, this time from Mr. Gorpley's secretary, he felt a knot form in his stomach. Later, a group of Larry's coworkers abruptly stopped laughing as soon as he entered the break room and refused to meet his eye. Larry knew he had a problem. He turned on his heel and left, not even bothering to refill his coffee cup.

It wasn't the implication that there was something going on between him and Balki that bothered Larry. That realization was in itself a bit of a surprise, but Larry had matured a lot since coming to Chicago. What offended him was the implication that he was taking advantage of Balki in some way. Larry had worked closely with these people. He'd raced to deadlines with them. They'd celebrated corporate victories and mourned defeats. It was a slap in the face to find out what they really thought of him.

He tried to push the feeling aside, but Larry felt himself coming back to it again and again for the rest of the day. He plastered a smile on his face whenever he saw Balki, but Balki of course saw through it in a second. At the end of the day, as they were leaving, Balki threw an arm around Larry's shoulders and said, "You did not have a good day, cousin?"

"Not really." He could feel Balki's eyes on him. "But don't worry about it."

"Of course I worry, cousin. You are my cousin."

It was a warm day in late spring. A few of the more dedicated surfers were braving Lake Michigan. As they walked along Lake Shore Drive Larry looked out at the choppy water. "As Mrs. Twinkacetti always said," Balki went on, wisely, "'a trouble shared is worth two in the bush.'"

Larry looked over at him. "I don't think that's what she said."

"You want to argue about words or you want to tell me what's the problem?"

Larry didn't particularly want to do either. But if people were making fun of Larry, they were probably making fun of Balki, too. More than they usually did, anyway. "Some people at work were calling you my mail-order bride." Balki looked thoughtful. Larry spared them both the agony of Balki's repeated guesses at what that might mean. "They mean I paid for you to come to America." He lowered his voice, even though there was no one within earshot. "To be my, you know, 'wife.'"

Balki stopped. Larry looked at him. He didn't seem angry, Balki was never angry, but there was an expression of complete disbelief on his face. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I know, I know. It's so stupid..."

"You could not afford to marry me. Our cousin Marta, she got two hundred and fifty goats for her marriage, and everyone in the village says she looks like the midwife slapped her face when she was born. Good goats," Balki added. "Mypos mountain breed. The best on the island." Larry blinked. Balki started walking again, this time linking his arm through Larry's. Larry usually pulled away when he did that in public, but this time, he let it be. The beachfront was mostly deserted. Anyway, he owed Balki something for insulting his honour or whatever had just happened here.

"Listen, cousin. There is something I don't tell you about Mypos."

Larry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he mentally steeled himself for another irrelevant tale of quaint village life. "What's that, Balki?"

"There is another island nearby, where there is a Soviet navy base. Sometimes, when they have holidays, the Soviet sailors come to Mypos. They drink, they eat Myposian octopus salad, they look for girls. Sometimes, they drink so much and eat so much Myposian octopus, they don't worry so much about finding _girls._ If you are catching my driftwood." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Are you saying..." Larry could hardly form the words. "You...I mean, you've slept with...."

"No! Of course not. Don't be ridiculous." Larry breathed a silent sigh of relief. "There was no sleeping. Only the sex. Well, mostly what I think Steve and Eddie call blow..."

"Balki!"

"Anyway." Balki shrugged, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. Larry shook his head. Maybe it was normal on goddamn Mypos, but here in America... "Cousin, I do these things because I want to. It was fun. They are generous guys. You think I earn enough money to come to America by looking all day at sheeps? I think not." Larry hadn't thought too hard about where the money had come from. He'd assumed Balki's family had helped him out.

Balki stopped again and turned to look at Larry. Larry was beginning to wish they'd taken the El. He could have avoided Balki's gaze better, although it would have meant having this conversation in front of a few dozen strangers, no doubt at full volume. It was the only volume Balki possessed. "I tell you this thing not for you to feel sorry for me, cousin, but so you can believe I know what I'm talking about. I know what kind of man pays for the sex, and you will never be that kind of man. And if people do not know this about you, and they prefer to make stupid jokes than think about it, then maybe they are not your friends and you should not waste time worrying about them."

"Thanks, Balki." Larry smiled. He was right, as always.

"No problem." Balki shrugged. "Although, of course, if you are ever in the mood..."

"Balki!" Larry could feel himself blush. "We're cousins."

"Yes. So I not even charge you."

It was a joke, of course, Larry knew that. Yet another example of meaningless and inappropriate Myposian humour. Which explained why Balki wasn't smiling as he said it, and why Larry left their arms linked all the way home.


End file.
